We Both Go Down Together
by love.is.blinding
Summary: Elizabeth Mason is a white collar art thief wanted by the FBI. Don Flack is a New York City detective following Elizabeth's every move. One day, Elizabeth makes a wrong decision, and has to turn to the one person who'll understand: Don Flack
1. Night Meeting

The house was dark. Most people would feel uncomfortable in it, but I guess I've gotten used to it. Even though I knew the house was empty, I made a point to keep silent. I hardly made a noise as I crept up the stairs towards my target. An office at the end of the hall.

I tried to turn the doorknob, but it was locked, as I expected. I got down on my knees, and got my lock picking kit out of my coat. I made quick work of the lock and opened the door. Inside the office was a bookcase, a desk, a filing cabinet, and a safe. At first I headed for the safe, but stopped and looked at the desk.

I changed direction, and walked over to the desk. It had seven drawers, three on each side and a long one aross the top. After looking though the first six, I hadn't found what I needed. The last drawer, the long one, was the only one with a lock. I used my kit to unlock, and immediately spotted what I had come for. A large manila envelope.

After I took the envelope, I procedded out of the room. I locked the office door and went back downstairs. As soon as I did, I heard the front door getting unlocked. I stopped in my tracks, and looked just in time to see the handle turn. I quikcly made my way to the back of the house, opened a window, and slipped out into the darkness.

-

"Good job, Elizabeth. I honestly thought it would take you longer." a grey haired man said after I gave him the stolen envelope.

"I work fast. That's why people like you hire me. Now, I held up my side of the deal." I told him. He chuckled, and nodded.

"So I suppose it's my turn. Here you go." he said, handing me a check. "$2500, just as I promised." I smiled, and tucked the check into my coat.

"Thank you, Mr. Long. It was good doing business with you." I said before leaving the room.

The crisp New York air hit me as I stepped outside. I shivered a bit, and pulled my coat tighter around me. It was November, what did I expect? I sighed and began walking down the sidewalk. I noticed a black car I'd seen around recently. Chuckling to myself, I smiled and gave a quick wave. Those FBI agents have been trailing me for months, and they still didn't have enough evidence to arrest me.

I smiled to myself as I continued walking. I got to a crosswalk, and had to wait for the little walking man. As I stood there, I heard someone come up behind me. I turned slightly to see a tall man with short brown hair and blue eyes.

"Oh, good evening detective Flack. What brings you around here?" I asked him, smiling.

"Okay, Mason. I need you to come with me to the station." he said, ignoring my question.

"Really? Why be so subtle about it? Last time you "brought me in," you made sure all of New York knew about it." I replied, turning towards him.

"Well, I didn't want to attract the attention of your friends there. You know, save you the stress." he said, nodding towards the FBI. I laughed and shook my head.

"Those clowns wouldn't notice if someone killed a man infront of them." I told him, smiling. "But whatever, lead the way, detective." He smiled slightly, and took me by the arm. He led me to a grey car, and opened the back door.

After I got in, he shut the door and headed towards the driver's side. He turned on the engine, and started driving.

"So, are you arresting me or are you just lonely tonight?"


	2. Interrogations and Scheming

"Tell me about your friend, Jacob Long." Flack said, sitting in front of me. We were currently in one of those interrogation rooms like on those lame crime shows.

"Oh, he's not my friend. We just had some... business together." I replied, smiling as I remembered the check in my pocket.

"Really? What type of business?" the detective asked, leaning forward a little.

"Let's just say I have a specific set of skills that some people find valuable." I told him, looking into his blue eyes. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he looked at his hands momentarily.

"Do you want to elaborate on those _skills_?" Flack asked as he stood up. I laughed a little, and leaned back in my chair.

"Well, since this isn't an official interrogation, and you haven't arrested me, I have the right to say _no_." I said, smiling slightly at the last word. The detective's eyes hardened a bit, and he looked at me.

"Listen, miss Mason-"

"Please, call me Elizabeth." I interrupted, smiling at him.

"You're very confident for a person in your position. Someone might even call it arrogant." Flack said, his voice not kind anymore.

"Oh? And what exactly is 'my position?'" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Listen, Mason. I know what you do. You're just smart enough not to leave any evidence behind. But I _will_ get you one day." he said, hitting his hands on the table. I looked at him and smiled.

"Good luck with that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do. It was nice talking to you, Detective Flack. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again." I said as I stood up. I gave the detective one last smile, then left.

-

Half an hour later, I was back in my penthouse apartment in Manhatten. I took my "paycheck" out of my coat pocket, and shrugged off my jacket. I walked over to my painting of Van Gogh's _Starry Night_ and smiled. I moved it aside, revealing a safe behind it in the wall. Cliche, I know. I opened it, and carelessly tossed the check with a pile of cash that had already accumlated.

I closed the safe and sighed. I put the painting back, and turned around. My apartment was pretty nice. It had a large dining room and kitchen. Past the kitchen was a sunk-in living room and my bedroom. I also had a large balcony with a good view of New York City.

After I took a shower, I pulled on my bathrobe and towel-dried my hair. I left the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen. I opened the fridge to get something to eat when I noticed someone sitting at my table. Shaking my head, I closed the door.

"What are you doing here, Johnny?" I asked straightening up and crossing my arms.

"It's nice to see you too, Liz." he replied, rolling his eyes a little. Yes, Jonathan Asher, my self-proclaimed "partner-in-crime." He had brown hair, brown eyes, a stubble-beard, and he was dressed in a suit and tie.

"You wouldn't be here unless you wanted something from me, so what is it?" I asked, ignoring his comment.

"What? I can't visit my favorite thief?" Johnny asked, feigning a shocked face.

"You can, just not in the middle of the night. How did you get in here anyway?"

"You're not the only one with superb lock picking skills." he replied, smiling at me. I returned it and sat down.

"Seriously, though. Why are you here?" I asked, leaning back in the chair. Jonathan sighed, and reached into his suit pocket. He brought out a folded piece of paper and tossed it infront of me. I looked at him, then reached for it. I unfolded it, revealing a picture of a decorated egg.

"A Fabergé egg?" I asked, looking from the picture to Johnny.

"Not only a Fabergé egg, but the Karelian Birchegg." he said and I looked back at the picture. Sure enough, it was. It was made of birch wood, hench the name, that was set in gold panels. It wasn't as ornate as the other Fabergé eggs, but it was still a beauty.

"Okay? It's in Moscow, right?" I asked, looking up at Johnny. He smiled and shook his head.

"Ordinarily, yes. But about a month ago, it was reported stolen. And of course, an investigation ensued, and it was determined that an organized crime group stole it, who just so happens to have headquarters in New York." Johnny said, his smiled growing.

"And you want me to steal it?" I asked, looking back at the egg.

"Yes! Well, I want us to steal it, but I mean, you're gonna do all the work." he answered, smiling.

"Oh, thanks. Where is it?" I asked. Silence. I looked back at Johnny, but his eyes avoided mine. "Johnny, where is it?"

"Uhm, the location is at the bottom of the page." he answered, his voice a little weird. I read it, and my jaw dropped.

"No, you're not serious. Are you serious?" I asked, looking at Johnny. He smiled a little, and nodded.

"You want me to rob the Russian mob?"

[*]  
_if you wanna see a pic of the egg (yes, it's real), follow the link below:__  
_


	3. Putting It Together

After I got over the initial shock of robbing the Russians, I realized it was quite possible. I mean, I've pulled off harder heists, but this one was different. If the Russians caught me, I probably wouldn't go to jail...

Anyways, after I made my decision to go through with it, I decided to scope the building out a bit. Luckily, there was a newspaper stand conviently placed across the street, so it gave me a reason to hang out there.

I bought a newspaper, opened it, and began studying the building. It looked pretty legit, typical New York building. It shouldn't be too hard to get into. As I considered my options, I noticed a man standing a few yards away from me. I smiled and walked over to him.

"I'm impressed, detective. Twice in less than 24 hours, not many people can do that." I said, actually reading the newspaper this time.

"Well, I guess I'm not most people." Flack replied, obviously knowing that I was talking about finding me. I smiled, and shook my head a little.

"Don't you have a case that you can actually prove?" I asked, focusing on an article about a new art exhibit. I heard Flack chuckle, and was momentarily confused.

"We arrested Jacob Long last night." he said. My breath caught for a moment, but I quickly got over it.

"That's interesting. May I ask what for?" I asked.

"Theft and forgery. Funny, you're name came up with connection to some documents we found." the detective said, glancing at me quickly.

"Oh really? Now _that's_ interesting." I replied, smiling at him.

"That's right, just go acting all innocent. I'm one step closer to arresting you, and believe me, I'm going to enjoy it." Flack said, before walking away. I watched him and smiled. That cop was growing on me.

-

After I had watched the building a few more hours, I had begun formulating a plan. I got back to my apartment and began perfecting it. I had gotten floor plans to the building, and found several good entry points. All I needed now was to know where the egg was. For that, I needed Johnny.

"Okay, all their treasures are located on the third floor, but the most expensive and rare, like our egg, are kept in a seperate room, here." Johnny said, pointing to a place on the blueprints. "Now, the Fabergé egg is locked in a safe against the far wall here. And the safe happens to be double-steel plated and fire resistant."

"They couldn't make this easy for us, could they?" I asked, shaking my head.

"It wouldn't be fun if it was." Johnny replied, smiling a bit. I chuckled, and returned to the blueprints.

A few days later, Johnny and I had pretty much perfected the plan. Johnny was going to break us in and keep watch while I did the dirty work. All we needed now was a time to do it.

"I say we do it at night." Johnny said as he leaned back in my couch. He was watching a basketball game while I tried to think.

"Really? Because I thought we'd do it in broad daylight, when everyone can see us." I replied sarcastically. Johnny rolled his eyes and turned the volume up. I sighed, and looked at him.

"Do you mind? I'm actually trying to work." I told him, grapping the remote and turning off the TV.

"Hey! That was the Knicks-vs-Bulls!" he cried, reaching for the remote. I moved it out of his reach and looked at him.

"I don't care. Can you please try to help me?" I asked. He sighed and sat up.

"Okay, fine. What are we doing?" Johnny asked, looking over at me. I groaned and fell back against the couch.

"Trying to find the best time to rob the Russian mafia!" I yelled impatiently.

"Okay, okay! Sorry, geez. Okay, this specific gang is call Izmaylovskaya-"

"Try saying that five times fast." I interrupted, smiling a little. Johnny gave me a look, and my smile faded.

"Anyways, the Izmaylovskaya primarily deal with murder-for-hire, extortion and infiltration. Every now and then though, they add theft to their résumé, which brings us back to the Fabergé egg." Johnny explained.

"What's so special about this egg, anyway? I mean, I know it was one of the last created, but why wouldn't they take the Consellation egg? That would carry a higher ransom." I asked, looking at the picture again.

"Well, aside from being one of the last created, it is also pre-Bolshevik revolution. And as you well know, Imperial Russian artifacts are very rare." Johnny explained, looking at me.

"And very expensive." I added and Johnny nodded. "So when's the best time to take it?"

"There's going to be an infiltration of a local pharmaceutical company tomorrow evening. That's going to be our best bet to get in there with minimal obstacles." he answered, eyeing the remote. I rolled my eyes and tossed it to him.

"I guess you deserve it. Can we pull all this together by tomorrow night?" I asked as Johnny became fixated on the game again.

"Of course. We have everything planned out." he replied, cheering as the Knicks scored a basket. I nodded and stood up.

"Okay, well that means I have to go get some stuff now. I'll be back in about an hour." I said. I also needed to clear my mind. This job was making me more nervous than ever, and I couldn't be shaky tomorrow.

Johnny paused the TV (TiVo, heck yeah) and looked at me. "It's going to be okay, Elizabeth. Just think, in 24 hours, you'll be a quater of a million dollars richer." he said, smiling. I smiled at that and nodded. My job totally rocked.

[*]


	4. Getting It Done

The following eveing, Johnny and I were walking towards the Russian mob building. It was time to rob them. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't nervous. My hands were kind of shaking and I had butterflies in my stomach. The bad butterflies, not the good ones.

Anyways, the sun was beginning to set when we finally got there. We stopped at the same newspaper stand I did a few days ago, and looked at the building. Russian mobsters were already filing out of the building and into some dark cars.

"Now _those_ are some stereotypical mob cars." Johnny said, nudging me a little. I nodded and smiled. The butterflies were replaced with the familiar rush of knowing your about to break the law. It felt good.

After the last of the cars drove around the corner, Johnny and I started to cross the street. We circled around the building until we found our entry point. Johnny quickly picked the locked door and we were in.

The interior of the building actually surprised me. It wasn't like in the movies, all dark and dangerous. It actually looked like a normal office building. Johnny nudged me out of my thoughts, and we silently found the door leading to a stairwell. We got up to the third floor, and quietly exited. We walked down a hallway, trying to stay clear of possible cameras. We came to a turn, and Johnny held out his hand, indicating that I should stay back. He snuck a peek and looked back at me.

"There's two pretty beefy guards. Wait here." he whispered before disappearing around the corner. I heard a couple of surprised voices followed by some punches and a couple of thuds. Johnny appeared again with a smile on his face.

"Coast is clear." he said simply. I turned the corner and saw two pretty big guys lying unconscious on the floor. I looked at Johnny and shook my head.

"I never understood how you do that." I said as we got to the room we were looking for. It had a regular knob and three deadbolts. Johnny shook his head and quickly got through them.

"Go do your thing, hot stuff." Johnny said, opening the door. I smiled and disappeared inside.

I shut the door behind me, and switched on the light. The room had shelves full of various expensive looking items. I took a minute to look around, and spotted a very elegant looking necklace. I resisted the temptation to take it, and looked for the safe. As Johnny said, it was back against the far wall. I smiled, and slipped my bag off my shoulders as I headed over to it.

I took a drill out of the bag and got down on my knees. I drilled a hole next to the lock, wishing it were a little quieter. I returned the drill to my bag, and took out a small snake camera. I inserted the lighted lense into the hole and moved it until the tumblers came into view. I rotated the lock until they clicked into place. I smiled and brought the camera back out.

I took a breath and opened the safe. The fabergé egg was nestled amoung some red cushions. How appropriate. It looked even more splendid in person. I checked to see if it was attached to an alarm, which it wasn't. I took it out, cushions and all, and gentely placed it into my bag.

I was about to close the safe when I noticed a piece of paper. Curiousity got the best of me, and I picked it up. It was a list of names. Some of them were crossed off, and I remembered seeing those names in the paper the other day. They had been killed. This was a hitlist. Near the bottom of the list was a familiar name: _Don Flack- detective._ I was shocked and was about to read more when Johnny opened the door.

"Time to go. We've got some visitors and their loaded." he said quickly. I nodded, grabbed my bag, and grabbed the list before closing the safe.

When we got back out to the hallway, about five Russian guys were coming towards us, guns raised. Johnny and ran towards a window at the end of the hall as bullets ripped through the air. When we got to the window, we repelled down the wall with ropes Johnny had gotten ready while I had cracking the safe.

We were halfway down the building when the Russians got to the window. They began shooting, and we quickly reached the ground. Johnny and I ran down an alley next to the building, and turned on to a deserted street. Bullets began piercing the air again as a few mob members chased us. Johnny led us to our getaway car and we quickly got in. He ignited the engine and began driving away.

-

"Elizabeth, I don't see why you're freaking out about this." Johnny said as he looked at the egg.

"This is a hitlist, Johnny. It has Don Flack's name on it, I can't just do nothing!" I replied as I was pacing back and forth.

"Sure you can. He's just a cop. Who cares if he gets killed? Better for us." Jonny said, smiling at me. I gave him a look, and he back down. "Sorry. I forgot about your "no murder" policy."

"It's messy and unnecessary. Besides, he's not _just _a cop. There's something different about him." I told him, smiling a little. Johnny froze and looked at me.

"You better not have a crush on this guy. He's a cop. More importantly, a cop who's bent on arresting you." he said, frowning at me.

"It's not a crush." I said, a little too quickly. Johnny sighed, and looked at me.

"Elizabeth, stay away from this one. You can't get mixed up with a guy like him. It wouldn't work-"

"Okay, this is about stopping someone _killed_. I have to call him." I said, taking out my cell phone.

"Yeah, and say what? 'Hey, I found a hitlist while robbing the Russian mafia?' Yeah, that'll go over real well." Johnny said, putting the Fabergé egg into his own bag. "I'll be back tomorrow with your money. Liz, please don't do anything we'll both end up regretting."

After Johnny left, I sat at the kitchen table and sighed. I dialed a number, and listened to the rings.

"New York Police Department."

"Hi. I need to talk to Detective Donald Flack."

"May I ask who's calling?"

I shook my head and sighed. "Uhm, my name's Elizabeth Mason. Tell him it's important."

"I'll transfer your call." I waited a few seconds, contemplating on just hanging up.

"Flack." Too late.

"Uhm, Detective Flack? It's Elizabeth. Elizabeth Mason."

"What? Why are you calling me? Trying to taunt me through the phone?" I winced at his biting tone, and shook my head, even though he couldn't see me.

"No, actually. I need to talk to you privately. Can you meet me somewhere tonight?" I closed my eyes, wondering if I can back out of this now.

"May I ask what for?" I chuckled softly and looked at the list.

"You kind of have to see it. It's hard to explain."

"I don't know-"

"Detective, you're going to have to trust me." I said, standing up and stretching.

There was a pause, and I knew he was sitting there with that look he has whenever he's thinking. "Fine. I'll meet you. Where?"

"First you have to agree to something." I closed my eyes, wondering if I was doing the right thing.

There was a sigh on the other end. "Sure, what is it?"

"You can't ask me how I got it."

[*]


	5. Secret Meeting

I stood in my apartment building's parking garage, waiting for detective Flack. This level was normally empty, so I knew it would be a good place to do this. The whole situation was kind of cinematic, complete with me in my pea coat standing under a lone ceiling lamp.

"There better be a damn good reason you dragged me out here in the middle of the night, Mason." I heard a voice say behind me. I turned and saw Flack standing with his hands in his pockets, his breath forming fog in the cold air.

"I wouldn't have called you if I didn't think it was important." I replied, reaching into my jacket pocket. Flack's eyes flicked to my hand, and he reached for his gun.

"Relax, detective." I said, pulling out the list. Flack frowned a little, and took the paper from my hand. He unfolded it and quickly read down the list.

"Is this... Is this a _hitlist_?" he asked, his voice sounding a little different. I nodded. "Where did you get this?"

"The Russian mob." I answered. Some of the color drained from Flack's face, and he looked back at the list.

"How did you-"

"I told you not to ask me that." I interrupted, tensing a little.

"Mason, I need to know." he said, taking a step towards me.

"Stop calling me by my last name. It's Elizabeth. And I don't think it matters _how _I got it. At least I got it." I told him, my voice rising a little. I looked into his blue eyes. They were captivating. Flack sighed and nodded.

"Why are you showing this to me? You could get in a lot of trouble and it would seem that your life would be easier with me gone." he asked. There was something I couldn't quite place, and I looked up at him.

"I don't know, I like our little game of cat and mouse. It's fun. And I'm not one for murder. I avoid it, and if there's a chance I can stop it, I will." I told him, smiling a little.

"Wow. A thief with morals. That's new." Flack said a little sarcastically.

"I guess you could put it that way." I replied, and there was a flash of acknowledgement in his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself.

"Some advice, from one person to another, try to lay low for a while. Russian's can be kind of vengeful." Flack said, nodding slightly. I returned the gesture and turned to walk away.

"Mas- Uhm, Elizabeth. Thank you... for this. I'm thinking I owe you." Flack called, causing me to stop and turn around.

"You don't owe me anything. I'm just trying to do the right thing." I replied, smiling a little. There was a look on his face that I couldn't figure out, but I liked it. It was caring.

"No, I insist. At least let me take you to drinks." he said, walking towards me.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I told him.

"Why not?"

"Because, Flack. You a cop, and I'm a criminal. We're complete opposite." I told him, somewhat disappointed in my own words. Flack looked up at my words, looking like he was debating something.

"It's just drinks. I think we could be civil for one night." Flack replied, smiling softly. I shook my head and began to walk away.

"That only happens in the movies. This isn't Hollywood, it's New York." I said, looking back at him. I thought I saw a look of disappointment cross his face.

"Okay, I'm obviously not going to change your mind. I'll be seeing you." he said, nodding a little. He turned and walked back to his car. I sighed and watched him go.

"It wouldn't work." I whispered, thinking of what Jonathan said earlier. I was hoping those words would make me feel better. It didn't work.

[*] 


	6. Nowhere Else To Turn

The next few days, I took the detective's advice and stayed in my apartment. Johnny had stopped by to give me my payment, and left. That was a couple days ago, and I haven't seen him since. I was starting to get a little worried because he would usually come over or call everyday to tell me about a crazy scheme or some "government conspiracy."

After ten more minutes of worrying, I decided to go over and check on Johnny. He lived on the other side of town, so it wasn't exactly walking distance. I hailed a cab, and a few minutes later, I was outside Johnny's apartment building. I climbed the stairs and quickly reached his door. I knocked, but no one answered. I tried turning the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn't. I frowned a little, and opened the door.

The apartment was a mess, which wasn't like Jonathan. He was a neat-freak. But there was broken furniture and other things strewn around the living room. I was about to go in more when I saw a rust color stain on the floor. It was blood.

"Oh my god. Johnny? Jonathan?" I called out but no one answered.

I ran back down to the taxi and told him to drive me back to my apartment. Once we got there, I paid him and got out. As soon as I did, it started raining. Typical New York. I took the elevator back up to my penthouse. I was walking towards my door when I noticed it was open. I got against the wall, and tried to listen. At first all I heard was shuffling. Then I heard two voices, and they were speaking Russian.

After a moment of panic, I gathered enough courage to take a quick peek. I saw two pretty big men tearing up my bookcase. They both had guns. I backed away from the door, and rushed back to the elevator. The first thought in my mind was that Johnny was dead. I shook that out of my head, and decided I needed to talk to Flack.

Even though it was raining, I went to the police station on foot. It wasn't too far away, and I needed the extra time to think. Before I knew it, I was outside the station. I took a deep breath and went through the doors.

I was immediately ambushed by the sounds of beeping and telephones. I shook my head and walked over to the receptionist. She took one look at me, then her eyes flicked back to the computer screen.

"Hi, I need to talk to detective Flack." I said politely.

"I'm sorry, but he's busy with a case right now. If you want to leave a message, I'll make sure he gets it." the receptionist said, not looking up from her screen.

"Please, it's an emergency." I said, leaning against the desk.

"He's busy." she repeated, looking at me through her glasses.

"Come on! Tell him it's Elizabeth Mason! He'll come, please." I said, my voice raising a little.

"I can't do that, ma'am. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave-"

"No, I'm not leaving until I talk to him-"

"Leave or I'll call security." she said, reaching for her phone.

"Ay, what's going on here?" I heard someone ask. I turned to see a man with kind of dirty blonde hair walking towards us. He looked like a new yorker.

"This woman is-"

"I need to talk to detective Flack. It's really important." I told the guy, looking up at him.

"Okay, I'll take you to him. I'm detective Danny Messer." he said, putting his hand on my back. He led me past some rooms and looked at me.

"You look pretty shook up. Are you okay?" Danny asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah, I mean, no- I don't know. I just need some help with something, and he's pretty much the only one who can help." I replied, wiping my eyes. We stopped outside a large room with lots of desks, and I saw Flack sitting at one of them.

"Here we are. Hey, everything's going to be alright, okay?" Danny said before leaving. I smiled, and walked though the door, walking over to Flack and his desk.

"Uhm, hi." I said, causing him to look up. He looked a bit shocked, then kind of accusing, then he looked concerned.

"Elizabeth? What's wrong?" he asked, motioning for to sit down. I did, and took a deep breath.

"They- they took Johnny." I said, trying to blink away my tears.

"Johnny? Who's Johnny? And who took him?" Flack asked, putting down a file he was holding.

"Johnny's my... friend. And I think the Russian mob took him." I told him, looking down. Flack sighed a little, and I saw him look around the room.

"Listen, can we go talk somewhere else? It's a little crowded in here." he said, and I nodded. We stood up, and he led me to on of the interrogation rooms. He shut the door, and looked at me.

"Elizabeth, I think it's time you told me what you did." he said, his voice getting real serious. I nodded, knowing he was right. I looked at him, and took a deep breath.

"Johnny's my partner, I guess. We met a few years ago at an art museum opening. We both love art, you know? Anyways, after we met, we kept in touch, pulling of thefts together every now and then. Last week, Johnny came to me about a job. A big one. Half a million dollars." I explained, looking at my hands.

"The Russians?" Flack asked. I glanced at him and nodded.

"It was a Fabergé egg from imperial Russia. Very rare and _very_ expensive. We planned everything out, down to how long it would take. I guess Johnny got some information wrong, because they came back early. They saw us and began shooting. We got away okay, but they still saw us. I went over to Johnny's today because I hadn't seen him in a couple of days. His aprtment was trashed and there was blood on the floor. I went back to my place, but some people were inside, and I'm pretty sure they were Russians." I finished, looking up at him. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go."

"Okay, well, obviously you can't go back to your apartment." Flack said, apparently ignoring the fact that I admitted to committing a crime.

"I know. I could get a hotel-"

"No, that's not safe. I'd like you to stay with me. At least until we can find you a safer place." Flack said. I looked at him, then shook my head.

"No, detective, I couldn't-"

"It wasn't a question." he said, interrupting me again. I was taken aback for a second, then shook my head.

"Flack-"

"If I call you Elizabeth, you call me Don." he said, his blue eyes staring into my brown ones.

"Okay _Don_, but still. I don't want to take up space. I can find a safe place to stay." I said, looking back down at my hands.

"What place is going to be safer than a cop's house? Now, we'll need to pick up some clothes for you, but we can't go back to your place-"

"We'll go to Johnny's. I have a whole wardrobe over there." I told him, interrupting _him _this time.

"Okay, that sounds good. Now come on, my shift's almost over. I'll drive us over to my place." Don said, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. I was going to protest, but took one last look into his eyes and sighed.

"Fine, you win detective. But only until this thing blows over." I said, giving in. Don smiled and stood up.

"Awesome. Uh, I have a few things I have to take care of. You can wait at my desk if you want." he said, leading me out of the room.

I went over to his desk, and sat in his chair, looking around the room. It was a little cluttered, and some of the other detectives were looking at me. Some were curious, others had that _other_ look in their eyes. I smiled to myself, and began playing with some of the things on Don's desk.

"Hey, Flack- Oh, you're not Flack." I heard someone say. I looked up to see an older man with light brown hair.

"No, I am most certainly not. He's off doing detective stuff." I replied, realizing I actually didn't know where Don had gone.

"Oh, okay. Well, can you just tell him that Mac stopped by?" he asked and I nodded.

"I will make sure he gets it." I replied, smiling at him.

"Thank you, miss..."

"Mason. Elizabeth Mason." I told him, thinking I shouldn't be saying my name too loud. His eyebrows rose a little, then he just nodded. He walked away, and I looked after him.

"Okay, Elizabeth. Ready to go?" I heard Don ask from behind me. I turned and smiled.

"Yup. Oh, some guy named Mac stopped by." I told him, getting up from the chair.

"Okay, thanks. I'll talk to him tomorrow. Let's go." he said, leading me out of the station.

[*] 


	7. Criminal and Cop

"Here we are. Welcome to _casa de Flack_." Don said, opening his apartment door and leading me in. I looked around. It was pretty basic: living room, kitchen, bedroom.

"It's nice." I said, making him laugh. I wasn't trying to be funny...

"It's not much compared to your place." he said, taking off his coat. I paused and looked at him.

"How do you know what my apartment looks like?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. Don looked at me and laughed again.

"I'm determined to arrest you, remember? I've done some surveillence." he told me, going into his kitchen. I smiled slightly and followed him.

"Speaking of which, why didn't you arrest me back at the station? I pretty much told you every detail of my crime." I asked, looking at him. Don shrugged and stopped searching through his cabinets.

"I don't know. I guess I felt bad for you." he replied, not really looking at me. I had the feeling that he was hiding something, but I didn't press it. The man was offering me a place to live.

"So... What's for dinner?" I asked, walking fully into the kitchen.

"Well, I have no food, so I was thinking some chinese. That sound okay with you?" Don asked, reaching for his phone.

"Chinese always sounds okay with me." I replied, sitting down at the table. Don smiled and sat next to me.

"That's my kind of woman." he said, dialing a number.

As we were eating, we chatted about random things. I learned he was 32, had lived in New York all his life, and had become a cop because of his father.

"So tell me about yourself. How did you come to choose your, uhm, _career_? Parental influence?" Don asked through a mouthful of lo mein.

"Oh no. They about died when they found out. I've always loved art, but I hated that everything was so expensive. You've heard of the art theft at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, right?" I asked, and he nodded. "Well, I lived close to there, in Boston. And I used to go all the time. So when something like that happened, it just hit me: it was _that_ easy. And,well,the rest is history." Don nodded, and looked at me.

"You got into the life of crime because two thugs robbeda museum?" he asked, letting his fork drop a little.

"See, that's the difference between us: you see everything from a _cop's_ point of view. You think they're 'thugs,' but I see them for the geniuses that are. I mean, they stole 13 pieces of art, and they still haven't been caught. You have to be impressed." I told him, smiling at his face.

"Whatever you say. So, have you ever stolen anything like that?" Don asked nonchalantly, picking up a random carton. I laughed and shook my head.

"This conversation is getting a little too interrogation for me." I said, smiling at Don.

"Yeah, sorry. Uhm, are you finished?" Don asked, pointing towards the half empty cartons. I nodded and began to help him clean up.

"So. You and your friend Jonathan. Just friends?" Don asked, failing in trying to be subtle about it. I laughed and smiled at him.

"Yes, just friends. I am single as a pringle." I told him, laughing at my little rhyme. Don's eyebrows rose and he smiled. "You seem surprised, detective."

"No,I mean. You're really... I'm surprised no one has noticed you." he said, blushing a little.

"Oh, believe me, they have. I've been holding off, I guess. Waiting for someone worth my while." I replied, smiling a little. I turned to put our beer bottles in the trash, and caught a glimpse of Don looking me up and down.

"Excuse, but did you just check me out?" I asked, laughing a little.

"No, uhm, I didn't mean- I mean..." he stuttered, his face growing a little pinker.

"I was joking, Don." I said, patting his arm gently.

I made to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. We were so close there were hardly any air between us. I looked up at him, and our faces were close also. He leaned a little closed, and our nosed touched. His breath ghosted over my lips and I instinctively closed my eyes. Our lips were so close, I could feel his, but then he pulled away,

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't-"

"Don, please, for once. Don't think like a cop." I said, looking up at him. He looked away for a second, then suddenly, he kissed me.

My eyes closed again, and I pulled Don closer to me, deepening the kiss. His hands went from my arms to my hips, gripping them tightly. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Don pushed me against the wall, pushing my dress up my thighs. I started unbuttoning his shirt, and soon it was gone. A second later, my dress was also discarded.

Don carried me to his bedroom and put me on his bed. I was on my back and he was standing up, looking at my body. He lifted his wife beater iver his head, and tossed it into his corner. I sat up, and ran my hands down his toned torso. I kissed his chest as I began unbuttoning his pants. He helped me get them off, then pushed me back down. He held my hands above my head and resumed kissing me. Criminal and cop, and it felt so good.

[*] 


	8. Kidnapped

I woke up feeling unusually warm. There was a strong arm wrapped tightly around my stomach and I was pressed up against a warm body. The previous night came back to me, and I smiled as I thought about it. I closed my eyes and sighed contently.

Don started stirring a little, tightening his hold on me. I smiled and kissed his shoulder. His grip loosened and I took that oppurtunity to slip out of bed.

Once up, I pulled my underwear back on and slipped Don's shirt around me. I buttoned it up as I walked into his kitchen. Opening up his fridge, I immediately spotted breakfast: biscuits, eggs and bacon. As i getting everything out, i heard someone enter the kitchen. I smiled as I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"You know, some guys think it's really sexy when a girl wears their clothes." Don whispered, kissing the back of my neck. "I'm one of those guys." I msiled and turned around. As soon as I did, he captured my lips with his. When I pulled away, he had that adorable smile on face.

"I'm making breakfast." I told him as his hands travelled down to my butt. He sighed and looked down.

"I have to get to work." Don said, shaking his head. I sighed and nodded. "If I could, I'd spend all day with you." I smiled and kissed.

"I know. Listen, when you get back, I think we need to talk about last night." I said, nodding a little.

"I agree. Uhm, I'll probably be back around 7ish, so yeah. We'll talk then." Don said, letting go of me.

"Awesome. I'll make us some dinner-"

"No, I don't have any food, and I don't want you going anywhere alone." Don interrupted, walking back towards his bedroom.

"Don, I'm going to go to a grocery store, full of people. I think I'll be fine." I told him, smiling softly. Don thought about it for a second, then nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, fine. But be careful, and don't take too long." Don instructed and I nodded.

"Yes sir, Detective Flack." I said, walking towards him. Don smiled and reached for the front of the shirt I was wearing. He pulled me towards him and kissed me softly. I smiled and kissed him back before he pulled away.

"I've got to get dressed." Don said, kissing me once more before disappearing into his room.

About an hour after Don left, I was getting ready to leave. I was dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a grey off the shoulder shirt. I kept my brown hair out of my face with a grey headband and finally slipped on a pair of black flats. After I got dressed, I left Don's apartment, and headed towards the grocery store.

Since I didn't have a car, and didn't exactly feel like taking a cab, I walked to the store. It was only a few blocks away, so it wasn't too bad. It was a nice day. You know, one of those November days that wasn't too hot or too cold. Just right.

I got to the store, picked up a basket, and headed for the pasta section. I picked up a box of lingunie, follwed by a jar of Vodka sauce. I smiled as I got to the wine section, and picked out a nice bottle of chardonney.

After I paid for everything, I left the store and headed across the parking lot. The sidewalk was unusually empty, but I took that oppurtunity to get back to apartment faster. I was walking kind of fast when i notced a black van parked on the road ahead of me. I was a little wary of it, but didn't freak out over it. As I passed it, I heard the door open and heard some guys come out of it. I tensed up, but suddenly felt someone grab me from behind. I dropped my bag and started to fight back. Whoever it was placed a cloth over my mouth and nose. I felt myself getting shoved into the van as my world went black.

[*]


	9. Framed

My head was spinning and my whole body was aching. I tried to move my hands, but couldn't. I realized I was sitting in a chair, my hands and feet bound with what felt like duct tape. A small moan escaped me, which led to someone shuffling around me. I slowly opened my eyes, revealing that I was in a dimly lit room. I couldn't focus, and my eyes clothed again.

"Don..." I whispered in a hoarse whisper. I heard a harsh laughter and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I felt a big hand grab my face and lift it up, as if someone was inspecting it. Whoever it was let go, and my head fell again and I let a small groan slip.

"Glad to see you're awake, miss Mason." a thick Russian accent said. It took a second for me to realize I was being held captive by a Russian, and when I did, I felt panic flood though me. I tried to get free of my restraints, but it was no use. The voice laughed at this.

"There's no use fighting, Elizabeth. Now open your eyes; I want you to look at me." the voice said. I forced my eyes open and looked up. Infront of my stood a man who looked to be in his late 30s. He had curly black hair, somewhat bushy eyebrows and a square jaw. I frowned and closed my eyes again.

"Who are you?" I asked weakly, trying to make my head stop buzzing.

"My name's Victor Romanov, and I am the head of this sect of the Izmaylovskaya." he said, standing infront of me.

"You... You took Jonathan. Where is he?" I asked, glaring up at him.

"Don't worry about your friend. You'll be seeing him shortly. Now, tell me where the Karlian egg is." Victor said. I shook my head and frowned a little.

"I don't know. Jonathan took it. I haven't seen it since we stole it." I told him, my eyes closing again. I heard Victor sigh and crack his knuckles.

"I've been nice so far, but that can change. I suggest you tell me where your friend took it." he said.

"I just told you I don't-"

"WHERE IS IT?" Victor yelled, getting closer to me. I opened my eyes and glared up at him again.

"_I don't know_. But even if I did, I wouldn't tell a good-for-nothing thug like you." I spat, looking him square in his dark eyes. Victor got a sudden dangerous glint in his eyes, but it went away as quickly as it appeared.

"You know, I was just going to kill you, but I didn't want to let you off so easily. It would be better to put your friends deaths on your conscious." he said, nodding to someone behind me. I was about to question him when I felt something heavy land on the back of my head, and everything went black again.

I felt myself coming to again, but this time, I was lying on my back on what felt like a stone floor. I slowly opened my eyes, surprised by the bright lights. I was looking up at what looked like to be a warehouse ceiling. I frowned, and sat up, which I immediately regretted. My head was throbbing where that jerk clubbed me. I gingerly touched the back of my head, and of course, there was blood. I grumbled a little, then looked around some more. I felt myself grasping something, and looked down. In my hand was a bloody knife. I squeaked a little, then dropped it, standing up quickly. Once again, not a good idea. My head felt like it was going to split open, but I tried to ignore it.

"Hello?" I called out, not really expecting an answer. There wasn't one. I frowned, and looked around. "So... Instead of killing me, you put me in a warehouse? Russians are..." I stopped talking when I spotted a person lying a few yards away from me. I frowned, and walked towards whoever it was.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, getting a weird vibe as I walked closer to them. As I got closer, I suddenly recognized the person as Jonanthan. I started sprinting towards him, falling on my knees as I got to his side.

"Jonanthan! Oh my God, Johnny?" I asked, shaking him a little. I realized that he was... "Oh God, no. Jonathan! Wake up, don't so this!" I felt tears coming to my eyes, and backed away from his body. I understood what that Russian maniac had said before I was knocked unconscious.

As I was sitting there, I heard the sounds of someone coming. I frowned, and went back over to the knife I was holding earlier. The footsteps were coming closer, and I braced myself to fight. One of the doors opened, and some men came running through it. I recognized them as NYPD.

"Drop the knife!" one of them shouted, pointing his gun at me. I recognized him as the guy from yesterday who helped me to Don's desk. Uhm, Messer, or whatever.

"My friend, I think he's dead. Help him!" I said, pointing the knife back towards Jonanthan.

"I said put the knife down, now!" he shouted, not listening to what I said. I dropped the knife, and the Messer guy came and put cuffs around me.

I was sitting in yet another interrogation room. This time, however, I was in handcuffs. The chair seemed more uncomfortable than usual, and the guy questioning me (his name was Danny Messer. I was right) was trying to intimidate me with death glares.

"Mr. Asher was your friend, correct?" Messer asked finally, leaning back a little in his chair. I nodded and looked down at the table. "Then why did you kill him?" I snapped my head back up and glared at him.

"I didn't kill him! Why can't you understand that? I was kidnapped and set up!" I told him, my voice rising considerably. Messer nodded and scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah. By the Russian mob. That's a great story." he said as Don walked in. I looked at him, then glared. "Now, why don't you tell me where you were last night." I smirked a little, then crossed my arms.

"I was having a _crazy_ night in." I told him, looking him in the eyes.

"Mhm, can anyone vouch for you?" Messer asked. I looked at Don and his eyes widened a bit.

"Yes." I told Messer, a smug smile on my lips.

"Oh yeah, what's his name?" he asked. I smiled and glanced back at Don.

"Donald Flack." I told him. Messer's eyes widened, and he turned to look at Don.

"Flack, is she telling the truth?" he asked, giving him the look this time. Don flushed a bit, looked down, then nodded.

"Yeah, she's tellin the truth. I was with her last night." Don said, looking over at me.

"Flack, I need to talk to you outside." Messer said, standing up.

"Don, you know me! I wouldn't kill Jonathan! You know that!" I said as he began to walk out the door. He paused for a second, then kept walking. Messer looked back at me, then followed Don out.

[*]


	10. Finding Answers

I was left to sit in the interrogation room all night. I managed to get some sleep, but it didn't last, because the chairs were so uncomfortable. I was looking out of the barred window when I heard the door open. I looked up, and saw Don walking into the room. I shook my head, and turned back to the window.

"Elizabeth..." he started but then stopped. I looked back at him, and frowned a bit.

"Why am I still here? You know I didn't do it." I asked coldly. Don closed his eyes, and sat across from me.

"Because you were found holding a knife with the blood of your dead crime partner. How do you think that looks to us?" he asked, looking up at me.

"I was with you all last night, though. I couldn't have done it. And I wouldn't have done it." I said, looking down at the table. "Johnny was like a brother to me." I heard Don sigh, and he reached over and touched my hand gently.

"I know you wouldn't, but the evidence is against you. You have to give us proof that you were kidnapped." he said softly, causing me to look into his blue eyes. They were full of sincerity and concern. I sighed and nodded.

"Well, we have motive, at least." I told him and he nodded, knowing what I was talking about. "As for proof... I have the name of the head of the Russian mob." Don looked up at me and frowned.

"Really? How do you know it?" he asked, letting go of my hand.

"He was talking to me this morning, before I wound up in that warehouse. His name is Victor Romanov." I told him, looking at him. Don nodded and smiled.

"He's one of the top ones on our list. We can bring him in. Do you have anything else?" he asked, standing up and walking over to me.

"Uhm, they drugged me before they took me, and some dude clubbed me pretty hard on the back of my head, but I don't know if that's any use." I said, sighing a bit. Don kneeled down in front of me, and smiled.

"That might help. I'll get someone to do a bloodtest." he said. I looked down, and felt his hand caressing my cheek. "Hey, everything's going to be fine. I promise." I looked up at him, and felt him lightly press his lips to mine. He pulled away, and got up to leave.

"Don." I called, causing him to turn and look at me. "Thank you, for everything." He smiled and nodded before walking out the door.

The next day was filled with needles and swabbing. The CSI's ran lots of tests, trying to back up my story. It seemed like the team believed me but was having a hard time proving it. Those Russians are apparently very thorough. I was free to go home, but they wanted me to stay somewhere safe, seeing that I would most likely become a key witness in the case against the Russians.

I was staying at Don's house, but we kept the romance down to a minimum, not only for the case, but because I didn't want to risk his reputation as a cop. People knew what I was, and I didn't want to get him involved in that. At least not until things blow over a bit.

Anyway, I was sitting on his couch, watching reruns of White Collar. That show pretty much chronicled my life. I related to Neal a lot. We were both good people with a special set of skills. I was just relaxing on the couch when I heard the door open. I looked over my shoulder and saw Don walking through the door, his hair matted from the rain.

"Hey, how was your day?" I asked, standing up and walking over to him. He looked up and had a kind of grim expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Just something with your case." he said, shaking his head a little. I frowned and followed him into his room.

"What about it?" I asked as he shut the door. He pulled his coat and tie off and looked at me.

"It seems they found somone who claimed to have heard you and Jonathan fighting the morning he was killed." he said, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off, revealing a white wife-beater underneath of it.

"That's not possible. I was here that morning." I told him, watching as he removed the wife-beater. I stared at his bare chest for a second before snapping out of it. He gave me a looked and sighed. "What? You know I was here."

"Okay, Elizabeth, before I say this, I just want to tell you it's not my theory, it's the prosecutors." he said, looking at me. I nodded and waited for him to continue. "I left at about eight in the morning, and Sid puts TOD at about ten that same morning. That would've given you plenty of time after I left." I stared at him for a second, then shook my head.

"Are you honestly saying that?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Elizabeth, not my theory." Don repeated, walking over to me. I sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't leave until that afternoon." I said, looking up at him. Don nodded and pulled me into a hug.

"I know and I believe you. It's just hard to get over eyewitness testimony." he said, running my arms softly.

"But eyewitness testimony is unreliable. Memories aren't like tape recorders. You can't just hit rewind and relive them." I told him, looking up at him. He smiled down at me and nodded.

"I know that, the CSI's know that, but the jury doesn't. They see witnesses as hard evidence. We could all the circumstantial evidence in the world against Romanov, but if one person says they saw you do it from fifty feet away, the jury will forget all the other stuff." Don said, shaking his head a little. I sighed and leaned against Don's chest.

"How could everything have gone so wrong? I never expected any of this to happen." I said, closing my eyes. Don started rubbing my back and I felt him kiss the top of my head.

"I know, I don't think anyone did." he said quietly. I looked up at him, and he smiled down at me. He kissed me gently, one of his hands on my cheek. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

"It'll all work out, I promise. I'm not going to let you take the fall for this." Don said, releasing me from his hold. I smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Don." I said as he walked towards his bathroom. He smiled and looked at me.

"You're welcome, Elizabeth." he said befoe going into the bathroom. I sighed and left his room.

I sat back down at the couch and resumed watching White Collar. I sighed and shook my head.

"Neal, how do you do it?" I asked, looking up at the screen. Then I remembered he was fictional character.

[*]


	11. The End

The next couple of weeks were hectic. We had the trial, and thankfully I was found not guilty. Don and I celebrated by going out to a nice little restaurant, and then spent the rest of the night in. Even though I had been cleared for all charges, there was still the matter of trying to prosecute the Russians. I knew that was unlikely to happen, but I still hoped.

I had attended Jonathan's funeral, which was hard for me. There weren't too many people there: just some of his family, a few people I knew through him, and me. Don, of course, came to support me, which helped me a great deal. It was a rainy November day; the perfect day for a funeral. I had stayed even after everyone else had left, and Don stayed with me. It was hard saying good-bye to him. Johnny had helped me through so many tough times, and we had broken the law together. Doing that bonds people in a special way. The night afterwards, Don held me while I cried all my sorrow out.

"Elizabeth, wake up. I need you to wake up." I heard Don saying as he gently shook me. I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, rubbing my eyes a little. Don smiled and helped me sit up.

"We found a couple of things that you might like to see." he said, handing me some clothes. I yawned as I got dressed, and followed him out of his apartment and down to his car.

Turns out, Don was taking me to the lab, which apparently had found substantial evidence that would put a lock on the case. I arrived at the lab and found Danny waiting for us. Over the last week, we had become fairly close. Whenever I had come down for something to do with the case, we always talked a bit. He was a nice person once you got past his rough exterior.

"Okay, so there was a little shop across the road from where you claimed to get kidnapped. There was video surveillance and it just happened to show the whole thing going down." Danny said, leading us back to where Adam Ross worked. We got to a room with several large HD screens, where what looked like security footage was being shown.

"Hey guys. Hi Elizabeth. I thought you'd forgotten about us after the trial." Adam said, smiling at me. I returned it and ruffled his hair a bit.

"I'd never forget you, Adam. You're my favorite lab tech." I said, laughing a little as he tried to fix his hair.

"Okay, c'mon Adam, just play the tape." Danny said, giving Adam a look. Adam rolled his eyes and hit a couple of buttons. The security footage started playing, and I recognized myself walking down a sidewalk. It showed me getting kidnapped and I felt Don's hand squeeze my hand as I was shoved into the van.

"Is that enough to get them convicted?" I asked, looking at Danny and Don.

"Well, it depends. We need to get a clear shot of the kidnappers, but thay should be easy, right Adam?" Danny asked, clapping his hand on Adam's shoulder. Adam shook his head but smiled anyways.

"Of course, it _should_ be. But I can do it." he replied, shrugging Danny's hand off his shoulder. "Only for my favorite white collar." I smiled and shook my head. Like I said, they knew what I was, and Adam was the only one who actually talked and joked about it.

"Thanks, Adam. You're the best." I said as Don and Danny led me out of his little office. Adam smiled and began clicking away at buttons.

"I thought I was the best?" Don whispered into my ear, making me shiver. I smiled up at him and shrugged.

"You just keep thinking that." I told him, patting his chest lightly. Don smiled and shook his head.

"I'll remember that tonight." he said, smirking at me.

Turns out, that tape was enough to convict them. Trouble is, it convicted only some of them. Victor Romanov was still at large, since there wasn't any evidence against him. I wasn't too worried, but Don had become more protective than he normally was. Romanov knew I wasn't in jail, so I still a pretty big target, especially since he still didn't have the stupid egg that started all of this. I wanted to find out where Jonathan took it, but Don told me it wasn't worth the risk. I figured he was right.

"Don, I need to talk to you about something." I said, walking into his room. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Sure, come on in, babe." he said, patting the place beside him. I smiled and sat down beside him, letting myself be enveloped in his arms.

"Well, you know this whole business with the Russians, right?" I asked, leaning back against him. He smiled a little and nodded. "Well, I figured with Romanov still out there, he probably wants me dead."

"That won't happen, Elizabeth. I won't let anything happen to me." Don said, rubbing my arms gently.

"I know. Uhm, when he had me captive, he said something that kinda stuck with me." I said, sitting up a little. Don stoped rubbing my arms and looked at me.

"What did he say?" he asked, his voice suddenly professional and caring.

"He said that he wouldn't kill me, because that would let _me_ off easily. He said that I'd have to live with my friend's deaths on my conscious." I said, taking a deep breath. I looked back at Don, and he had confusion in his eyes.

"He was talking about Jonathan. We know that, because he tried to frame you for his murder." Don said, frowning a little. I shook my head a little and looked down.

"That's what I thought at first also, but then I started thinking. He probably knew it was unlikely that I would be convicted for that, so what he said earlier doesn't make sense." I said, not making eye contact with Don.

"What are you saying?" Don asked, touching my shoulder gently. I stood up and looked at him.

"I- I'm leaving New York." I said, looking away from him. Don didn't say anything, and I just sighed.

"No, you can't. I'll protect you. I promise I will." Don finally said, standing up and walking over to me. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes.

"It's not about me, Don. I don't want them to hurt you. And they will if I stay here. I can't risk you getting hurt." I told him, shaking my head a little.

"No, I can take care of myself. Please, don't go. I- I love you." he said, putting his hands on my arms. When he said that, I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.

"You shouldn't love me. I'm nothing but trouble. You're too good of a person." I said, pulling away from him.

"No, Elizabeth, I love you. I love you. You love me too, don't you?" he asked, his voice desperate.

"I do. I do love you, Don, which is why I can't stay. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." I told him, looking back at him. Don had tears in his eyes, and he walked briskly over to me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me with so much passion and love, I felt his knees buckle. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to him, knowing this was the last time I'd get to do this.

Don finally pulled away and looked down at me. I tried to smiled, but my eyes welled up again, and I buried my face into his chest. He held me tight and kissed the top of my head.

"I love you, Elizabeth." he whispered, letting me go.

"I love you too, Don. Goodbye." I said, as I walked out of his room, out of his apartment, out of his life.

_THE END_


	12. Epilouge

"Good morning, miss Asher. How are you today?" my apartment receptionist asked as I walked towards the desk. I smiled and stoppeed at the desk.

"I'm pretty good, Carly. How are you today?" I asked.

"Eh, I've been better. Uhm, a letter arrived for you last night. It's from New York." she said, giving me an envelope. I frowned a little, and took it from her hands.

"Thank you. I'll see you later." I said, walking out of the building.

The bright Los Angeles sun shone down on me as I began walking. I absolutely loved it here. It was so different than New York. It hardly rained and it was always so warm. I had gotten a job as an art restorer at the Museum of Contemporary Art. I still loved art, and I had a gift with it, so it seemed right. I had put my past life behind me. Me being a white collar thief was nothing but a vivid memory now. I even changed my name last name. I was now known as Elizabeth Asher, in memory of my best friend.

I still thought about Don. Hell, I thought about him every waking minute of everyday. I missed him so much, sometimes I thought about getting back into contact with him. I had decided against it, though, seeing that it would be too risky. He probably moved on anyways.

I sighed and looked at the envelope. It didn't have a return address, just that it was from New York. I frowned a little, and opened it.

There was just a couple of newspaper clippings inside. I took out the first one, and looked at it. It had a picture of the Karlian egg. Next to the picture was the headline "_Stolen Faberge Egg Returned to Russia._" I smiled as I read the article. Apparently some "private collector" by the name of Jonathan Mason "found" the egg and returned it Russia, recieving an reward of one million dollars. I smiled and thought of Jonathan. He was such a good person; a true modern day Robin Hood.

I put that one back and took out the second clipping. It showed a picture of the man I recognized as Victor Romanov in handcuffs. The headine read "_Russian Mob Boss Finally Convicted, Sentenced to Four Consecutive Life Sentences."_ I smiled and read the article. It said he was arrested for the murder of several people, including Jonathan. I smiled and laughed in triumph. I looked inside the envelope, and noticed a small piece of paper I hadn't before. I frowned and took it out. It was blank except for five words written in handwriting I hadn't seen in over a year.

_You can come home now._


End file.
